The Forgotten Poem by Amber Muth

A boy with no name,
As his face shows his shame,
If he may never know the game,
In which from he came,
Through the birth of no return,
To his ears in which he heard,
The voice that screamed,
You Are Nothing, and Never Will Be;
Through years of pain,
He could remember the screams,
As if it was said again,
His head filled with nothing,
But the thought of hell,
What would it be,
If he had been killed early,
His yellow mark he wore,
As the same with many other,
Each and everyday,
Another one had died,
Not a second to waste,
As they stick to the same disgrace,
The lost of all his remains,
In his hands he kept,
Was his pride to survive,
Through such horrible time,
The many that lied,
But many more that cried,
To witness such crime,
Right in front of your eyes,
To remember till’ death,
Had took his breath,
To leave him falling to his knees,
Was something people hate to seize,
An Innocent child,
Of who had been filed,
As a random number,
Sunk into his skin.
Was forever to be seen,
Even if it was a horrible thing,
He had no say,
In a single thing he did,
All he could do,
Was stay until further said,
The many left in silence,
As lined up side to side,
They were told to not make a move,
As one by one,
They had all died,
Till’ this day,
You see a little boy,
That walks the land,
In search of his toy.
That was once token,
The day he appeared,
In this very camp,
To make him feel forgotten.